On the morning following that of the day of fishing the Seamew was skirting a wild-looking coast, against the bald headlands of which the huge blue billows of the Pacific thundered with a ceaseless roar. The scene was one of awful grandeur and desolation, though not of utter solitude, for though no sign of human life was visible, sea-lions disported in the tumultuous breakers, huge whales rolled lazily on the long swells, and myriads of sea-fowl circled with harsh cries above the precipitous rocks. Above all towered the symmetrical snow-capped peak of a lofty mountain, from the summit of which a thin banner of smoke trailed to leeward. It was Shishaldin, the most beautiful peak of all the Aleutian Islands, and as it was the first volcano Phil Ryder had ever seen, he gazed upon it with delight and wonder. The forbidding coast they were skirting, and which was Phil’s first bit of Alaska, was the south side of the island of Oonimak, one of the largest of the entire Aleutian chain, and also the only one of any size absolutely without inhabitants.
After a while the schooner reached the western extremity of this inhospitable island, and turning into the broad channel of the Oonimak Pass, was soon breasting the green waters of Bering Sea. Here her course was again altered, so that she now followed the northern coast of the island, and was headed towards its upper or eastern end. This shore was much less abrupt than the other, and broad levels of mossy tundra broken by foot-hills stretched away to the mountains that had risen so sheer from the Pacific side.
At length towards evening anchor was dropped in a small, well-sheltered bay at the extreme eastern end of the island, and Captain Duff caused himself to be rowed ashore. In a short time he returned, and to the surprise of all hands informed his crew that he wished his cargo of seal-skins broken out at once and transferred to a place on shore that he would point out.
So actively was this job of night-work carried forward, that before morning every seal-skin had been taken from the schooner, carried ashore, and safely salted away in a kench constructed within the ruins of an old stone hut. This was but one of a number still standing, which showed that at some previous time Oonimak Island had supported at least one populous village.
This mysterious proceeding having been carried out to Captain Duff’s satisfaction, and only a scanty cargo of salted cod-fish left in his vessel’s hold, her anchor was again lifted, and she was headed northward into the fog-hidden regions of Bering Sea. In these forbidden waters any vessel was liable at any time to be overhauled by some American revenue-cutter or British man-of-war, and subjected to an examination. If seal-skins were found on board she was seized and sent to some distant port, from which there was no chance of escape, and where her crew were detained as prisoners until such time as their case might be tried before the proper authorities.
The strange proceeding of the Seamew’s master in discharging his cargo on a desolate island, carefully concealing it there, and then venturing into the forbidden waters, drew forth many eager and curious comments from his crew, all of whom wondered what the next act on the programme would be. None, however, dared question the schooner’s autocrat, for, as though well aware of their desire to do so, he became more of a bully than ever, and so roared and bellowed and snarled at every one and everything as to make all hands anxious to keep as far from him as possible.
None discussed the situation more earnestly than did Phil and Serge whenever they could get together beyond the captain’s range of observation, for they were well aware that every mile of progress in this new direction found them just so much farther away from Sitka, as well as from the track of vessels bound for that port.
“I tell you what it is, old man,” Phil remarked, on one of these occasions, “while I don’t know where we are bound or when we will get there, it seems to me that shipping on board this schooner was a mighty poor move on my part. I might have known that I would never get to Sitka this way, if I had only stopped to think. But I didn’t, and I don’t suppose I ever shall until it is too late for thinking to do any good.”
“What worries me most,” responded Serge, “is that it was I who proposed the plan.”
“Now don’t you fret about that. You only did what you thought was for the best, and, after all, I don’t know but it is just as well that I came on this cruise. I should have been certain to get into some other scrape equally bad, if not worse, if I hadn’t. Why, when I recall that one of the only two nights I ever spent in Victoria was passed in a police-station, I tremble to think what might have happened if I had been left there for two whole weeks. I should really be enjoying this trip, too, if it wasn’t for thinking of my poor father. He surely must be in a state of mind by this time. At any rate, I am seeing something of Alaska, or rather of its fogs and waters, and that is what I came out West for, you know.”
“Yes,” said Serge, anxious to encourage this brighter view of the situation, “and you are making a splendid reputation for yourself as a seal-hunter. Why, after this trip, if you want it, you can get a job any time at the very highest rates going. I tell you what! If I could only shoot as you can, I should feel fixed for life.”
“But I sha’n’t ever want any such job again,” replied Phil. “To tell the truth, I am getting awfully sick of this killing business. It was exciting at first, but the keeping it up day after day is horrid. One might as well turn butcher at once, and be done with it.”
“Oh!” said Serge, with a puzzled air, as though this sentiment were beyond his comprehension. “If you look at it that way—”
“Well, I do!” interrupted Phil, “and I hope I shall never be called upon to shoot another seal.”
The reason why Serge was unable to regard the business of killing animals, whose skins represented money, in the same light that Phil did was because of the vastly different surroundings amid which he had been brought up. The most important industries of the great territory that claimed him as a son are hunting, fur-trading, and fishing. In fact, these and a little mining were the only business pursuits of which he had known anything until he started on his long voyage to the Atlantic coast. Thus from his earliest childhood he had been brought up to believe that fur-bearing animals were to be killed wherever found, and to regard a successful hunter with the same respect that Phil would accord to a successful banker or lawyer.
Thus we find individuals, communities, and even nations, regarding the same things from entirely different points of view according as they have been educated. Each honestly believes himself or itself to be in the right, and that all others must be wrong. In this manner arise differences of opinion that sometimes lead to strife. Wherefore let us try to look at all things from our neighbor’s point of view before concluding to differ with him concerning them.
The foregoing paragraph is a sermon, and though it is a very tiny one, it ought to apologize for intruding itself into a story. I am afraid, though, that, like many other sermons we are all acquainted with, it is so puffed up with its own conceit that it will do nothing of the kind.
So while Phil Ryder had arrived at the conclusion that the business of killing seals was one that no self-respecting hunter who also claimed to be a sportsman could follow, Serge Belcofsky regarded it as a most eminently respectable occupation, in which opinions both lads were right.
In the meantime, while these discussions were going on in forecastle and on deck, the Seamew flew northward for a day and a night. It was generally believed that she was in search of some new fishing-ground, for, as all hands knew, Bering Sea is one of the best-stocked fish-preserves in the world, and contains a supply of food fishes sufficient for the feeding of all the people in the world.
It is one of the very foggiest places in the world also, being even more foggy than the Bay of Fundy, and for the same reason, which is warm water and cold air. As the warm waters of the Gulf Stream enter the Bay of Fundy, so the warm waters of the great Japan current enter Bering Sea. In both places they meet waves of cold arctic air, by which evaporation is condensed into fog. If the air were as warm as or warmer than the water there would be no fog, as is the case in the tropics; but when warm water and cold air meet fog is the result.
The steam that we see issuing from the spout of a teakettle as it sits on top of a stove is nothing more nor less than fog. It is the vapor rising from the hot water in the kettle condensed by the much cooler air outside. If the outer air were as hot as that inside the kettle we would see no steam, though the invisible vapor would be passing from the spout just the same. To prove this it is only necessary to set the teakettle in the oven.
Thus Bering Sea is always foggy during the summer months, when its waters are warmer than its air, and that is one reason why the fur-seal, who dearly loves cool wet weather and foggy days, finds in it a congenial home and makes it his summer resort. Another reason is that these waters so abound in fish that form the seal’s chief food, and to procure which he thinks nothing of swimming one hundred or more miles in a day from his rookeries on the Pribyloff Islands.
Although seals can exist for a long time without food, they must eat sooner or later. So the mother seal, having stayed on one of the islands with her pup until she is very hungry, will leave him gorged with milk sufficient to nourish him during her absence, and set forth on long fishing expeditions that may extend over two or even three days. When she returns she finds her own little one amid thousands of others that look exactly like him, just as surely as a human mother would select her own baby from a roomful. So anxious is the mother that her pup shall have enough food to make him grow into a strong, beautiful holluschickie that she will nurse none but him. Thus if she did not return from her long journey in search of food he would surely die of starvation, as all the other seal-mothers would be too busy supplying the wants of their own little ones to care for him.